


Transitive Property

by Wicked_Seraph



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not Happy, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 14:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicked_Seraph/pseuds/Wicked_Seraph
Summary: If a = b and b = c, then a = c.Sing wonders, not for the last time, when his admiration had festered into a desperation to fill a gap, to become the variable that links together those gone and those left picking up the pieces.[Takes place just shortly before Garden of Light.]





	Transitive Property

There is an aching hunger inside of him.

It’s the sharp intake of breath when Sing’s eyes take on a mischievous glint and his lungs sputter to a stop. It’s the twisting of his stomach when Sing’s voice drops to a low growl, dangerous and beautiful in its implied brutality. It’s the way his mouth waters at the small glimpses of the raw power simmering within Sing’s body — surely more than he’s allowed to see.

 For now, it’s content to gnaw on his grief.

* * *

It’s terribly easy to pretend.

Sing’s skin is warm against his back, his heartbeat a feverish rhythm beneath his skin. His cheeks are flushed but his voice is steady, devoid of the usual trembling that betrays his excitement.

“Eiji — are you sure this is okay?”

Eiji nods, hoping the small smile on his face looks sincere.

"Of course it is.”

His eyes flutter closed and he allows himself to daydream. 

He allows himself to pretend that the lips molded to his imperfectly are Ash’s; a tongue licks at Eiji’s mouth cautiously and he succumbs to the whimpering desperation, allows the small flutter of pleasure in his stomach at the contact. His head swims, and he allows himself to imagine that the kiss tastes like beer or mustard, like avocado and shrimp, rather than toothpaste. 

It’s almost perfect. Eiji’s heart feels like glass shattering beneath his ribs, the heat swirling in his veins melting it, changing it into something unfamiliar and vile. It’d be so easy to pretend that this is how healing feels. Medicine is bitter, he thinks, and sometimes you have to rebreak a bone to set it properly. He isn’t sure if the turbulent void within him works the same way, but he doesn’t want to consider the alternative.

Strong, muscular arms wrap around him, and he tries not to think about easily he sinks within the offered embrace. The warm body cocooning him smells like expensive cologne and a body wash with a three-figure price tag that could only be found thousands of miles away — one that he knows Sing only used because it was purchased for him. He hates how easily he can pin the specific notes in Sing’s scent. Ash’s scent was as familiar as his own fingerprint and utterly indescribable — soap and sweat and a top note of wary anxiety, all nestled within the suffocating remnants of blood or gunpowder.

Eiji is not the first to break the kiss; his eyes are still shut, head inclined back to allow Sing to kiss him. Eiji’s lips are still shaped as a perfect negative of Sing’s, eyebrow furrowed with mingled confusion and loss.

He allows himself to pretend that his cheeks aren’t wet, that his lips aren’t saline and swollen from trying (failing) to find Ash within Sing’s kiss.

Sing brings his lips to Eiji’s throat instead. Eiji notes the lack of teeth or tongue; he doesn’t have to ask why. 

“I can… if you need me to.”

Sing’s voice is soft against his ear, almost inaudible. The resonance is all wrong, but it could easily belong to someone else, someone whose voice was like a warm hand against his cheek when they were alone.

Hands too large to be Ash’s explore the dips and contours of his frame, stirring heat within him; his heart speeds up from the contact, leaning in the touch and drinking it in. Sing’s skin feels like fire against his, and though cautious his hands leave a restless need in their wake. They pause at the juncture of his hips, stroking gently near the waistband of his pants. 

Ash would hesitate like this, too, he thinks.

“I don’t know what I need,” Eiji whispers, unsure if the undulations in his stomach are arousal or nausea. His body is messy contradiction: a pale, sweat-drenched face; pants damp and tented from the selfish, demanding hunger gnawing at him.

“You don’t have to figure it out right now,” Sing says, the hand near the waistband dropping to trace small, gentle circles against Eiji’s thigh. Ordinarily it would be kindling for the low embers within him; he knows that the soft, sexless warmth that trickles through his veins is intentional, and he leans against Sing in what he imagines is gratitude.

“Whatever you need me to be, I’ll try my best.”

Sing’s smile is sad; unfortunately, the cold, mirthless expression reaches his eyes. The moonlight peeking through their curtains casts Sing’s face in a strange, silver glow, sapping the warmth from his smile.

Sing ruffles Eiji’s hair affectionately and untangles their bodies, covering Eiji with a blanket before shutting the door behind him. He has the courtesy to ignore the soft, quiet sobs that break the silence. 

* * *

There is an aching hunger inside of him.

It’s the fire that races through his blood when he cradles Eiji against his chest and swears he can still feel his heartbeat. It’s the way his mouth dries up when he notices Eiji’s shirt creep up as he reaches into the spice cabinet, exposing pale skin and lean muscle. It’s the way his spine tingles with awareness when Eiji’s eyes linger and cheeks flush — and for once, he wants to be seen.

_Whoever you need me to be, I’ll try my best._

Sing wonders, not for the last time, when his admiration had festered into a desperation to fill a gap, to become the variable that links together those gone and those left picking up the pieces. 

There is an aching hunger inside of him. 

For now, it’s content to gnaw on his fear.

**Author's Note:**

> This was very heavily inspired by lovely fanart by [@sushisalmon95](https://twitter.com/sushisalmon95/status/1070673817435926529) on Twitter. I hope I've done it some measure of justice.


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